


Alive

by LeoAries



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix It, Happy, Melendaire, One-Shot, The Good Doctor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoAries/pseuds/LeoAries
Summary: She laid all night with her head against his chest, basking in the uncertainty of the future but the truth of their "I love you". One week later, he finally responds positively to the medicine they placed him on.
Relationships: Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 35
Kudos: 124





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> A fix it fic. Neil isn’t dead, who the hell said that he was? Nah! He's sleeping. Anyway, they placed him on medicine.
> 
> BTW I’m not a doctor. I’m a writer, so I’m just making all this up. Don’t come at me with your medical facts or lingo. 
> 
> If you want more Neil x Claire fanfic let me know! What would you like to see?

It was morning when she heard the buzzing against her nightstand. Dark morning, the kind where the grass still had dew and the air was crisp — and your body wasn’t quite sure if it was 5am or 1am. Yet Claire leaned over and ignored the time completely, for it had little significance on the message which alerted her phone.

She left her face bare and her hair undone, though she told herself a thousand times it was okay to take her time. She had stared into her bedroom mirror and the mirrors at work for too many hours now, wishing she could somehow know the exact moment and time that Neil would react positively to the treatment they gave him to help with his sepsis.

It had been early morning, too, when she clutched his chest and was afraid to move. Afraid to hurt him. Afraid to let go. Only the steady rise and fall of his lungs beneath her kept her from collapsing right off the medical bed and onto the floor. That heartbeat became a symphony for her, each and every day that they treated him. Morning when she looked him into the eyes and told him the truth inside of her heart, wondering whether they’d ever get a moment again. 

And by some miracle, he had loved her, too. A part of her agonized all night long over the time taken away. Working in medicine never gave you tough skin to death. It merely made you swallow everything instinctual about loss, to put a brave face on, and then cry silently in stairways. 

It was a shot in the dark. They could at least try treatment, she told herself. It wasn’t impossible. There was a possibility in everything, even if it was only one percent. Less than that, even. But there were no improbabilities when it came to her. And not when it came to Dr. Melendez. People came back from sepsis, and he might be one of those people. So until his heart stopped beating and they declared him dead, she would always have faith that he would recover.

So when she burst into his room, she felt a million tiny songbirds spring to life inside of her. His eyes were open and the tiniest bit of color returned to his bronze cheeks, even his hands looking slightly less greyed. Next to him, Dr. Lim was holding one of those kinds, her face lit so brightly that she peered at Claire with a look than was deeper than any sort of text message she could ever send. 

“Dr. Browne,” Lim nodded, and Claire felt her heart pounding inside of her chest. She also felt weepy — the kind of weepy where you trip over your own feet, stumbling against the hospital bed and cling to the person on it for dear life. 

Neil’s eyes moved to hers, and Claire could not stop herself. She stepped forward, as in disbelief, and gripped the edge of the bed. “Neil—“ she choked, her eyes filled with tears. Dr. Lim politely let go of him and excused herself, wiping her own tears as she went. But all Claire could see was the way Dr. Melendez was staring up at her, weak and fragile, even a bit groggy. But alive. He was alive.

“Hi.” He blinked, smiling. Claire trembled as he reached up toward her, bending down so she could press her cheek to his palm. “You look like someone died.”Claire laughed at the stupid, horrible joke. How could he joke like this? She had laid on him as he had been slipping away, falling into a sedative state which he remained for over a week. Every day was a gamble. She had prayed every day that it would be the day he reacted positively to the medicine — that he became the small percentage, that little bit of what others considered impossible.

“No,” she whispered back, closing her eyes to savor his touch. “No, like someone lived.”

They stayed suspended in the heartbeat of their moment until Neil ran a thumb over her lip. Then he let his hand drop and Claire pressed down his hair, which had gotten a bit spiky. 

“You still have so much to do here…” she continued, swallowing thickly. “You can’t go.”

“I won’t.” He promised, his own eyes wet. Then he inhaled and seemed to grow more serious, all jokes gone as though an open window swept them out of the room. “Claire…I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took this to tell you —“

“Shh,” she interrupted him and leaned in close. She could smell the usual, familiar him beneath the harsh scent of everything they had put in and on him. “Just focus on getting better. I need you to get better. And I’m always going to be here.”

“Claire?” His eyes fluttered. “I am so grateful you’re here.”

“I know,” Claire choked, and now she felt her tears spilling her cheeks. Beautiful tears — happy tears. He was going to be okay. The earthquake, God, whoever it was, had tried to take him away. But you could not simply remove someone who still had so much good to do in the world. Life wasn’t always fair, but life had purpose. His purpose was not this. He was meant to grow old, with whoever it was, and be happy. To have children. To have smiles and kisses and feel the sun on his face.

He was her mentor; the one who had saved her. The one who had made her feel as though she could be loved, and she was loved. That she mattered, too. That if the roles were reversed, he’d be holding her hand, and blinking wet tears from his eyes. 

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, feeling him stir more awake at the act. She did not care if anyone saw. She did not care if Dr. Lim was around, or Glassman, or Morgan, or anybody. She felt him kiss her back and she sighed happily against his mouth, giving him everything she had in the most soft version. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, catching her gaze. His lips quirked upwards in a smile and she smiled back, sniffling. “I meant what I said. I do love you.”

Claire nodded and ran a hand lovingly through his hair. Then she found his face and shook her head slightly. “I’ve always loved you. I told myself I didn’t. I told myself it was just..an attraction. But you are the smartest, best, most unbelievable person I have ever met.”

Neil’s face twisted in longing and he twirled one of her curls between his fingertips, still weak and slow in how he moved. He found her eyes and sighed. “And you are…the most beautiful.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she promised him, and then pressed her forehead to his, hearing the slow tempo of his breathing which could have been the sound of heaven itself. Alive, she told herself. He is alive. “I’m here.”


End file.
